


Magic, When I'm With You.

by LWritesx



Category: Shadowhunters (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Canon Compliant, Canon-Typical Violence, Canonical Character Death, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Emotional Manipulation, Emotional/Psychological Abuse, Family Feels, Fluff and Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Manipulation, Manipulative Relationship, Multi, Necromancy, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Other: See Story Notes, Parabatai, Parabatai Bond, Parabatai Feels, Past Abuse, Past Relationship(s), Post-Canon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-09
Updated: 2018-08-09
Packaged: 2019-06-24 10:32:27
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 5
Words: 12,418
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15628812
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LWritesx/pseuds/LWritesx
Summary: Alec is dying on the floor and Magnus can't heal him.Jace is finally back to himself.Clary is missing.Simon is left alone in the ruins of the battle with Lilith.orthe one where the battle against Lilith leaves the Shadowhunters grappling with the aftermath.





	1. Too In Love To Let Go.

**Author's Note:**

> Hey all! I'm so excited to finally share my piece. It was a huge pleasure to do this for the Big Bang!
> 
> Thanks to @bcnedrah for beta'ing.
> 
> Quick notes;
> 
> 1\. Takes place right after s3 ep10  
> 2\. Tags are there for past maia/jordan, and lilith/jace, and jonathan. Please proceed with caution.  
> 3\. Feedback is my favourite thing ever, so leave some if you enjoyed!
> 
> Thanks for reading!

“Hey, hey, hey, Alexander, stay with me,” Magnus’ voice trembles.

He caresses his lover’s cheek lightly. The massive explosion on top of the building couldn’t tear his attention away from the man dying in his embrace.

Alec breathes heavily and his wrist hangs at an awful, uncomfortable angle. Magnus would gladly give his own life to ensure that Alec’s pain stops. But he was as helpless as he was useless. His magic doesn’t exist anymore. He can help neither Luke, nor Isabelle, nor Simon, nor Jace, nor Clary. To top it all off, he’s made one hell of an enemy in the form of Lorenzo Rey. His immortality, well, that had been stripped away by the monster he called ‘father’, too. The only thing Asmodeus had left Magnus with was his life, and the chance to grow old with his loved one and die with him. And that is the one thing that Magnus wants. A full life with Alexander. And without his Alexander, life would be nothing.

“Keep your eyes open. Look at me,” Magnus whispers fiercely.

“M-Magnus,” Alec gasps, pain twisting his face, “I-I-“

“Save your strength, Alexander,” Magnus murmurs, “Please, stay with me. I need you to stay with me. ”

Magnus tries to shove down the violent images of his past; early Indonesia, his mother bleeding and dead by her own hand, the sharp _keris_ impaled into her abdomen. His step-father running into their home, screaming _Demon! Abomination!_ Red-hot fire pouring out of his hands, burning the man alive where he stood.

Alec’s eyes are rolling back into his head, which lolls underneath Magnus’ hand, pulling him back to the present. The arrow is still, quite disturbingly so, pierced into Alec’s chest. Magnus instinctively knows that if he tries removing it, Alec would only bleed out faster.

Alec can’t die like this.

Using his other hand, Magnus does the only thing he can think of.

The cell service in front of the building is strong, he thinks, as he dials the number almost instinctively.

“Magnus?” Her voice is wide awake and energetic, as if she were running a night shift in the E.R.

“Catarina,” he almost weeps in relief, and he can tell she hears it in his voice, “I need you.”

“What’s wrong?” She asks, her tone more urgent.

“It’s Alec. He’s dying, and I can’t heal him,” Magnus informs her.

She doesn’t hesitate to ask for his location and the easiest route to getting there.

****

At the top of the building, two young men stand, holding each other up, scared and shocked at the burning carnage that has become their lives.

“No!” Jace cries out, his body shaking in a barrage of emotions against Simon’s, “No, she can’t be dead!”

“I know what I saw! That’s what happened!” Simon says, sniffing, “Jace, the stupid mark backfired on Lilith when she tried to hit me. Then the explosion started. I got thrown back, Clary came after me, then the whole building went up in flames!”

“Then, where’s the body, Simon?” Jace’s heterochromatic eyes fly over the scene before him, scanning over still-burning furniture, falling ceiling pieces and ash piles on the floor. The air is thick with ash and smoke, it doesn’t bother Jace. He’s too high on adrenaline, and he’s just regained total control of himself.

“I-I don’t know,” Simon sniffs, looking at Jace, lost.

Jace’s expression drops and he shakes his head, steeling himself. He makes his way towards the bloodied, burnt sarcophagus in the middle of the room, preparing himself for the worst.

He doesn’t know how to feel when looks inside and sees nothing but blackened water. His heartbeat drops. Clary’s body is not in there, thank the Angel.

But neither is Jonathan’s.

Which can only mean one thing. Lilith's plan to bring him back had worked.

Fear is a slick, metallic taste on his tongue, but he’d rather die than let Simon know he was afraid.

“Simon?” Jace calls slowly, looking at Simon, who advances over with caution blatantly expressed on his face.

His eyes widen when he looks inside the sarcophagus, and he gasps, “No, no, where is Jonathan—“

He starts to panic, and Jace firmly places his hands on Simon’s shoulder.

“Okay. Here’s what we’re gonna do,” Jace says firmly, refusing to let his voice shake, “We’re not gonna panic. We’re gonna go downstairs and regroup with the others. We’re gonna tell them what’s going on, and we’re gonna figure this out. We’re gonna fix everything.”

“Jace, are you sure you’ll be able to do this?” Simon asks, “I mean you’re—“  
  
“I’m fine,” Jace says, cutting him off.

He would force himself to be fine. Grief, anger, hurt, all that could come later. Emotions were a luxury, and he could not afford to splurge himself on them. He had to make amends, fix his mistakes, and pay for all he’d done as the demonic Owl first. And his _parabatai_. He had to pay for what he’s done to his older brother and _parabatai_.

But most of all, he had to make _himself_ pay. Because regardless of the fact that he had been possessed, regardless of the fact that it was Lilith who possessed him, there was a small part of him that had enjoyed doing all the things she commanded him to do as the demonic Owl.

****

Alec owes her for this, Isabelle thinks, as she knocks Ollie - or was it Ozzie? - away from her.

She feels as though she just couldn’t catch a break - from being a yin fen addict, to losing her mom, to inadvertently becoming a support system for Simon, to not killing Luke’s possessed mundane partner. After this whole debacle, it would only be fair for Alec to give her some sort of vacation leave to take a break.

She’s honestly _so_ not emotionally equipped to deal with all of this.

“You holding up okay?” Luke asks as he swings his wickedly sharp hunting knives across the body of one of the winged demons, _Lilith’s_ demons.

“I’m fine,” She replies, as she adjusts her grip on the electrum whip in her hand. “We just have to focus on holding them off for as long as we can for Jace and Simon.”

Jace and Simon come down the flight of stairs mere moments after she responds to Luke.

Dressed head to toe in black, wielding silver blades with his golden hair creating an almost halo-like glow in the semi-darkness, Jace looks like an avenging angel. Without stopping to think twice, he runs headfirst into the crowd of demons and attacks using dual swords with an expression of _raw, unfiltered_ fury on his face, one she’s never seen him wear before. Which left her wondering just _what the hell happened to Clary?_

While eight hands _and_ a defensive mark are better than just four hands, it still took a while for all the demons to be defeated. Izzy spots Jace and Simon tearing their way through them, both men looking like furious wraiths with a vendetta.

She’s busy literally fighting her own demon when she hears someone call her name. She doesn’t have time to turn around and see what it is about, though. She feels a gust of wind rush behind her and the air around her starts sparking with foreign, old, _unknown_ energy.

Another demon hisses to close to comfort, but she feels the heat of it exploding into a shower of hellfire again, and Izzy turns around to see what exactly that was, only to get the surprise of a lifetime.

Simon Lewis is standing behind her, and the mark glows brightly on his forehead. Simon Lewis has just saved her life.

“Thank you,” Isabelle breathes, slightly shocked at what just happened, especially aware of the fact that her whip and hands are black with ichor, and even more aware of how close she was to death, at that moment.

He says nothing, but gives her the dorkiest little smile ever.

A wave of butterflies explodes in her belly and her heartbeat picks up a notch.

_No,_ Isabelle pleads with herself, _no no no. Don’t go there._

“Are you guys alright? What the hell were you thinking, just barging into those demons like that?” She demands, after they all catch their breath.

The boys nod, and she stares at the mundanes who are peacefully asleep on the floor, and Isabelle knows that they won’t remember what happened while they were possessed. Or the fact that they were possessed in the first place.

She truly envies mundanes for that. The ability to forget and blur out the dark spots in their life. In the end, they all return to what they once were, dust and shadows, and they all know it. They’re not afraid of it. They’re resilient things, mundanes. They fall down and bounce back, harder and better than before. They may repeat their mistakes, yes, but the good ones took the initiative to learn from them.

Yet Shadowhunters considers themselves the superior race. If that is so, then what could be said about her?

She, who was once possessed by a demon, defeating the very purpose of being a Shadowhunter. She, who fell prey to Aldertree and his temptations. She, who allowed him to make her an addict, a slave to _yin fen_. She, who allowed herself to go straight to the source, Raphael, and engage in one of the unhealthiest relationships in the books. She, who nearly gave into temptation once more, who nearly died from the withdrawals when she tried to get better. And during that period, she was nothing but a scared little girl, afraid of death, taking solace in her big brother's embrace. This was something she felt as though she could never bounce back from.

Until Simon introduced her to the therapy group. Simon helped her make it easier, helped her learn that in order to move on, she must first accept what happened.

She’s jolted out of her thoughts when she sees Luke’s lips moving, and Jace’s moving in response. It then occurs to Isabelle that she’s supposed to be focusing on her mission right now, not having an existential crisis.

Flipping her hair, she asks, “Wait. Where’s Clary?”

Jace’s eyes harden, “She’s not here.”

“What do you mean, she’s not here?” Luke asks, “Has something happened? What-?”

“He means she’s missing,” Simon cuts in, harshly, “Clary’s gone.”

Jace looks pissed.

Izzy and Luke freeze.

*****

Alec is fast asleep. The white bandages wrapped around Alec’s chest and wrist can almost pass for his skin. He’s so pale from losing blood. He shivers lightly and Magnus pulls the satin sheet to cover his body, just under the bandage.

Magnus eyes his boyfriend warily, carding his hand through his hair when Alec’s eyes scrunch together in pain. He’s texted Isabelle earlier to let her know Alec is at his place. Safe from Jace.

Looking at his lover now, he wonders what Alec is dreaming about. He wonders how much pain Alec is in. Catarina says that she tried to numb as much of his pain as she could.

She hasn’t asked him anything about his magic, but he knows she must be worrying about it.

“Are you okay?” she asks once Magnus enters the penthouse living room and sits on the couch, handing her a cocktail.

“I,” Magnus starts, but when he sees her expectant look, he can’t bring himself to lie to her.

Either way, she knows how to see through his bullshit, just like Ragnor. A dull ache ricochets through his chest at the thought of his deceased friend.

“I went to Edom,” Magnus admits, “I made a deal with Asmodeus. My magic for his magic in order to break Lilith’s hold on Jace.”

Catarina stares at him with wide eyes, “Why on Earth would you do that? Magnus, these are Shadowhunters. They’re not—“

“He’s Alec’s _parabatai_ ,” Magnus says, as if that would explain it all.

“And is Alec worth it?” Catarina asks, quietly, nodding to the room, where he was fast asleep.

“He’s more than worth it,” Magnus replies. “He—He makes me feel things.”

Staring at the drink in his hand, Magnus continues, “I’ve been afraid of opening up to someone for the last few centuries. With Alec, I feel like I can be who I am. He doesn’t judge me. He makes me happy. He makes me laugh. He confides in me, and I trust him enough to do the same. We’ve had our ups and downs, and fighting with him makes me feel physically ill, and we come back stronger. I can’t do anything without thinking of him.”

Catarina looks at him in shock, her eyes wide and lips slightly parted.

“I think I’m too in love to let go. I love him too much to just give up and let go of what we have. He’s worth the world,” Magnus mutters quietly.

And he knows that as he says these words, he means every single one.

 


	2. All You Do Is Give, All I Do Is Take.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Magnus and Jace bond, the Lightwood family see Alec for the first time since the incident, Magnus and Alec talk.

 

Magnus Bane is unhappily roused from sleep by the incessant knocking downstairs on the locked front door of the penthouse.

“Magnus!” A feminine voice, low, husky and slightly accented, yells, pounding on the door once more.

Ah, so Jace has told Isabelle the entire story, it would seem. It’s either that, or she’s read his texts, or both.

Sighing, he disentangles himself from the protective position he’s taken around his boyfriend.

He’s spooning Alec, who’s chin is under Magnus’ jaw, back pressed against his chest. Magnus’ arms are wrapped protectively around Alec’s midsection where he’s not injured, and he’s hyper-aware of the Shadowhunter sleeping between his arms. They don’t usually sleep like this, but Magnus couldn’t help giving in to the overwhelming urge to protect him.

Alec stirs awake when Magnus shifts to get out of the bed. His hazel eyes widen in momentary confusion, but he quickly settles once he sees Magnus.

“I’ll be right back,” he says, leaving Alec in their bedroom.

“I’m sorry, Magnus. I tried to get them to leave Alec alone to heal, but they insisted that they wanted to come right away,” Jace apologizes quietly after Luke, Maryse, Isabelle, and Simon enter the penthouse.

Magnus isn’t annoyed, though. He knows that these are the people who care deeply for Alec.

Jace is a mess. He’s usually so well put-together, but today there are long, purple bags under his eyes and he even has a five o’clock shadow along his jaw and upper lip. He lacks his usual cocky air and his golden-blonde hair sticks up all over his head. He’s quiet and his clenched fists are shaking at his sides. Looking into his blank dual-colored eyes are the worst part. He looks as though he’s drained, physically, mentally and emotionally...

And then Magnus notes the lack of a certain red-head at his side.

“Where’s Clary?” Magnus asks, curiously, furrowing his brows.

“She’s missing,” Jace tries not to let his voice quiver but fails, “I’ve been out searching all night, but I can’t find her. I’ll go back out to search again in a bit. But, I just wanted to check in on Alec.”

 _“Because this is all my fault,”_ remains unsaid. They both hear it.

“Jace,” Magnus says firmly, “This is not your fault.”

“It’s not?” Jace demands, incredulously, “How can you say that, Magnus? It’s my fault that I wasn’t strong enough to beat Lilith. I _let_ her possess me. I almost _killed_ Alec. I _helped_ her kill innocent mundanes. _I’m_ the reason that you’re magic-less right now.”

“It was _Lilith’s_ fault,” Magnus corrects, stubbornly, “She chose to possess you. She chose to make you kill those mundanes, just as I chose to give up my magic to help you, and as those who care about you chose to risk everything to get you back. Do you understand, Jace?”

And Jace wants to cry. How could Magnus say something like that? He's taken back to his younger days, remembering how whenever something happens, Valentine blamed _him_. Valentine always blamed _him_. He hit him with anything he could find and he’d yell, he’d yell insults and things like _‘This is your fault, Jonathan! Look at what you’ve done!’_ Jace had long stopped saying, _‘But father, I didn’t do it_.’ If someone says you did it, you did it. Accept the blame and move on.

And after all cuts and trauma were healed in one go with an _iratze_ rune, and Valentine has taken Jace into his arms and coos, ‘ _Don’t do it again, okay. I know you’re very sorry, son, but you can't do this again, okay?’_ , he goes into the kitchen and makes spaghetti for dinner, and Jace knows he's forgiven.

So why is Magnus telling him it’s wrong to blame himself, when it was his fault all along?

“Do you understand me,” Magnus says firmly, squeezing his shoulder hard, bringing Jace to the present, “Jace?”

And honestly, Jace didn’t understand. How could he, when every time he closes his eyes, he sees a mundane with brown hair, possessed, the demon twisting and mutilating the host’s body with no shame?

Jace sees nameless, faceless, people pleading, begging, _’Please, no, I’ve been good, please don’t let me die, please, please, please_.’

And Jace sees Alec, his _parabatai_ \- the man who was literally the other half of his soul, his fellow warrior and best friend, his leader, his big brother - being held by his neck between _Jace’s_ own two hands.

He sees Alec’s face twisting in pain, his wrist hung at inhuman angle, crying out in pain, while being pierced by his own arrow, whispering, _Jace, I know this isn’t you, I forgive you,_ while on the other side of the Owl, Jace had begged and cried, _No, don’t hurt him. Please, do whatever you want to me, but don’t hurt him._

Growing up, Valentine always preached that the phrase ‘ _guilt is to the spirit what pain is to the body_ ’ was a fallacy and that Shadowhunters should have neither guilt nor pain.

That phrase had begun to hold a lot of meaning for Jace. He had both, and couldn’t let go of either.

But he nods at Magnus, anyway.

****

Tears fall from Maryse's eyes as she looks at her son.

“Don’t blame Jace,” is the first thing Alec wheezes, while Isabelle carefully burns an _iratze_ rune into his skin. Simon is a steady, silent presence next to Isabelle.

Maryse sniffles, but she nods quickly. “He-He wasn’t in control of himself.”

Luke puts his hand on the back of Maryse's neck gently, but Alec and Isabelle notice. Izzy exchanges a sly glance with Alec.

“I’ve assumed control of the Institute for now,” Isabelle sighs, “Underhill’s asking for you.”

Magnus and Jace enter the room then, Jace looking worn and about to cry. Magnus has a steady, firm, reassuring grip on the blond’s upper arm.

When Jace sees Alec, it’s like a dam bursts. Tears drop from Jace’s eyes as he breaks from Magnus’ grasp and rushes toward the bed. Maryse and Izzy help Alec sit up. He stretches his uninjured arm out and Jace slides in next to him, allowing his face to drop into the crook of Alec’s shoulder.

“I’m sorry,” Jace sniffles, “I’m sorry, I’m sorry.”

“Jace,” Alec says, huskily, as if his voice hasn’t been used in a while, “It’s okay. It’s not your fault.”

“I-I hurt you, Alec,” Jace whimpers.

“It wasn’t you,” Alec comforts, “You can’t blame yourself and you can’t beat yourself up for this.”

Alec, too, notices that Clary is missing, but when Isabelle catches his gaze, a silent shake of her head is the only answer he is given. Alec says nothing.

Jace allows himself a few more seconds of comfort before he pulls himself together and away from Alec.

“Okay, can someone,” Alec winces, “Can someone get me up to date on what happened last night?”

“Alexander,” Magnus begins, “You should be resting—“

“It’s fine.” Alec tries to smile, but it comes out more like a grimace. “I’ve got this, I promise.”

Magnus stops himself from protesting again, but everyone can tell he still thinks that Alec should be resting.

Isabelle launches into a long account of what happened on the lower floor, with some help from Luke. Simon tells him about the sarcophagus and the explosion, but comes to a halt when he says Clary’s name.

“And she wasn’t in the building? Or the perimeter surrounding it?” Alec asks.

“No,” Jace whispers, “I’ve been out searching all night, she wasn’t in the area of the explosion, or any of the area closest to it.”

“If Jonathan really was Lilith’s son, then he could have had some of the same properties as a Downworlder,” Magnus says, “He could be able to use magic. Not a lot, but just enough to get himself and Clary out of there.”

“Valentine injected him with Lilith's blood,” Jace confirms, “So he may have stronger traits than the average Downworlder.”

“Then we'll have to expand our search area. We have to count in the Shadow World hot spots in New York, as well as the wider area of the Downworld,” Alec says, squeezing Jace's hand softly, “Hey. We'll bring her home. Promise.”

“You two have gotten close, huh?” Jace smiles.

“Well, we do have something in common,” Alec says softly, “Does anybody else know that she’s missing?”

“Just us. In this room,” Isabelle says.

“Good. Then it has to remain that way for now,” Alec says, wincing again, “I think the easiest way to cover more ground is to work in pairs. We can deal with the Jonathan problem after Clary’s safely back at the Institute.”

 “I’ll search near the Jade Wolf and the Docks,” Luke says, his eyes glinting an eerie green.

“I’ll stay with Luke and help him,” Maryse tells her children, “I may not be able to help much, but at least the extra hand would be useful.”

“Simon and I will handle the DuMort, the Seelie Bridge and Croton point, which is where the rift that Lilith came from was located,” Isabelle says, as she pats Simon's shoulder.

“There might be the best place for him to go to, but it will also be the most obvious,” Magnus agrees, “There will be magic there, of course, and it will be at its highest concentration because it’s still connected to Edom and Lilith, even though the rift has been closed.”

“Since those areas are covered already, I’ll take the streets and the remaining areas,” Jace says.

“Alright, well, since it’s decided. Jace, take Simon. You boys can start searching. We need to find Clary as soon as possible,” Maryse says, “Isabelle and I will be right behind you.”

Jace nods, and he and Simon leave the penthouse after Jace bids Alec goodbye.

“We'll be back to check on you,” Maryse leans over to kiss Alec on his cheek, and he’s briefly comforted by the smell of his mother’s fruity, floral perfume.

“Be careful,” he says, “All of you.”

Maryse nods then embraces Magnus.  He whispers something unintelligible to the rest of them to her, but whatever he says visibly comforts Maryse.

Isabelle gives Alec a small smile and a quick peck on the cheek before she leaves the penthouse with Maryse.

“How're you feeling?” Magnus asks after a moment of silence,  sitting on the edge of the bed.

“I’m fine,” Alec tries to pass off the grimace as a smile.

Magnus glares at him.

“It.. It just hurts to breathe,” Alec says, looking at his wrist, “And I guess I won’t be using any weapons for a while.”

“If I could heal it, I would,” Magnus mutters wistfully, “Maybe I can get Catarina to come over and look at it for you.”

“Wait, what do you mean if you could heal it?” Alec questions.

Magnus’ face falls. Alec can tell that something is bothering him. Badly, as he doesn't meet Alec’s gaze. Alec realizes that he should start treading lightly, as neither of them doesn’t always have the best control over their emotions, especially when it comes to fights. Both he and Magnus have the ugly quality of acting petty, which sometimes causes things to escalate past the point where it should have ended.

“What is it, Magnus?” Alec presses, quietly, “What’s bothering you?”

There's a heavy pause between them that seems to stretch. Until Magnus speaks, his voice equally as quiet as Alec's.

“I gave my fath--,” Magnus stutters unexpectedly, clearing his throat quietly to cover the crack, “I gave my father my magic and immortality in exchange for enough magic to break Lilith's hold on Jace.”

“You did what?” Alec gasps, shocked, “Magnus, your magic is everything to you, why would you—”

“Because I love you, Alexander,” Magnus' cat eyes flash, and his voice goes an octave higher before he reins himself back in, and his tone is gentle again, “Because. I. Love. You. And if giving up my magic and my immortality is the price I have to pay to spend a long, full life with you, then I'll gladly pay it.”

“But it's not fair to you,” Alec protests, “Magnus, it seems as though all you do is give, and all I do is take. It's not fair!”

“Don’t you think I know that?” Magnus asks, and lets out everything he’s been holding back for the past few days, “Do you think it was easy for me to just stand there and see Jace put your own arrow in your chest? Do you think it was easy for me to stand there and do nothing but listen while you screamed in pain? It wasn’t! And if I had to do it all again—if I had to give up my magic for you all over again, I’d do it, because you’re worth it!”

And just like that, the dam bursts. All the locked away worry, the fear of knowing whether or not Alec would really be just another arrowhead in the box, the anxiety, the painful awareness of Magnus’ own frail mortality and of the fact that they could lose each other so easily now—

“Hey, hey, hey,” Alec pulls Magnus into his embrace, but not before wiping away the tears that coat the older man's cheeks, “You’ll be okay, I’ll be okay, we'll be okay. We're in this together, and we will work this out. I promise.”

He lets Magnus stay tucked into his firm grasp, bearing the pain without complaint.

Magnus' body shakes with each sob, and Alec holds onto his lithe body firmly, pressing soft kisses into his forehead, whispering, and sweet comforting words into his ear.


	3. I Can See You Hoping You're Not Hopeless, So Why Can't You Show Me.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Clary is found, but there's something wrong.  
> Very, very wrong.
> 
> Maia isn't ready. Simon finds comfort with Isabelle.

The alleyway is pitch black. Even with his night-vision rune, Jace can barely see. The air reeks of stale beer, cigarettes, and urine. He recalls both times he was in this alley - almost getting killed by Maia the first time, hooking up with her the second.

Jace winces. That had been such a mistake--

A drunken woman with green hair stumbles out of the pub, laughing loudly, one hand thrown around a scaly, horned man and the other around a woman with skin as pale as snow, eyes as blue as the midnight sky. She can barely walk. She falls forward, throwing up on the side of the road. The pale woman laughs and the man rubs her back.

Although Hunter’s Moon is a prominent establishment in the Shadow World for Shadowhunters and Downworlders alike, its surroundings could use better upkeep, Jace thinks to himself.

He’s been searching for Clary for almost two days now, managing to cover a distance no Shadowhunter ever covered before, and here is the last place he expects her to be at. He knew how Valentine’s tactics and mind worked; it didn’t take a genius to figure that Jonathan would operate in the same manner as well. This was the perfect place to hide in plain sight. Coupled with an alleyway like this - dark, long, and improperly maintained - it would be a great place to trap someone, too. It would go unnoticed. And he hopes he’s right about that.

Jace steps forward steadily, slowly observing everything in the alley, keeping a firm grasp on one side of the wall. He thinks that not even couples would come this far into the alley to bump uglies.

He jolts to a halt when his foot brushes something soft. He doesn’t want to look down. When he does, he holds back a shout. He’s touching a piece of long, fire-red locks, connected to an unconscious, unmoving body.

“Clary!” He whispers, gently touching the girl, but she’s still unresponsive.

She’s face down on the ground, and she looks so defenseless and innocent. Jace knows she’s perfectly able of kicking ass herself with her dual kindjals, but he still wants to kick the ass of Jonathan Morgenstern, who undoubtedly left her in the filthy, cold, dank alley. Whether she lived or died would be up to her own endurance levels and whether or not the Angels had bestowed any mercy on her.

Jace turns her over and winces at the blood scabbed over a thick gash on her forehead and dried blood on her neck. Her hair is bedraggled, her face covered with ash, soot, dirt, and grime, and her eyes are bunched shut as if she’s in pain.

He shoots a quick message to Maryse, Izzy and Alec. He knows they will spread the word.

**7:30 PM JACE**

_Found Clary. Bringing her to the Institute._

He picks her up bridal style. He remembers holding her like this after saving her from that miserable, disgusting, shape-shifting Ravener that took the form of her friend, Dot. The Ravener had tried to kill her in her apartment before he took care of the problem. A small smile plays at his lips.

He remembers tailing her for days, curious and intrigued about this young woman who could see him, yet had no marks of her own. Waiting for a perfect excuse to bring her to the Institute. Staring in awe as an _iratze_ was sketched into her skin, and all her wounds began healing. The small smile is still on his lips, momentarily distracting him from the overwhelming guilt. Despite being caught in the crossfire of two worlds, Clary has not changed. She’s still the same headstrong, stubborn, spitfire that she was since the day she came into the Shadow World.

When Jace crosses the threshold, Isabelle bombards him, immediately taking her friend from him and whispers comforting coos, both in Spanish and English.

There’s nothing that Jace can do now but wait for Clary to wake up.

****

_Clarissa._

_Clarissa, get up._

_Hands reach out, extending into the dark oblivion._

_It's like running through a maze you can't see the end of, sprinting through the maze designed by your own mind to trap you._

_Clarissa, find me._

_The voice. It's familiar but strange. It's as smooth as water running through a stream of rocks on a summer day._

_She wants to listen._

_She wants to find the voice._

_But there's a part of her that screams danger. And she tries to focus on and hold onto that part of her that tells her not to listen to it._

_Clarissa._

_Give in._

_I can see that you are hoping that you are not hopeless._

_Why are you resisting?_

_Give in._

_Why don't you show me who you really are?_

_No, no, no._

_She tries to bring her hands to cover her ears, but the voice gets louder, louder, louder. It pierces through her ear and she cries out in agony. The phantom hand grabs her wrists and yanks her to the light at the end of the maze._

_No!_

_She opens her mouth to let out the anguish-filled scream that builds up in her throat and her eyes fly open._

She gasps for air, sitting up abruptly.

“Shh, shh,” the raven-haired girl pats her thigh gently.

Isabelle.

She's in her room, in the Institute.

She's safe.

_For now._

The thought crosses her mind as Isabelle wraps her arm around her, helps her off the bed and leads her to the bathroom.

****

Maia Roberts may be many things, but a coward is not one of them.

A runner is not one of them either. But she couldn't stop herself when she saw Jordan. When he triggered her painful, trauma-induced transformations.

She wrings her hands together nervously in her seat. The wind is warm as the bus drives through the street.

She swings the leather backpack over her shoulder when the bus comes to a slow halt. The bus stop is empty, and the streetlights above the bench gives it a glowing illusion.

The truth is, Maia thought she could handle it. Simon is not Jordan. Simon would never treat her like Jordan did. She knows this, and she knows the differences between them both. Yet, there was a part of her, a _small_ part of her that would always expect him to act just like Jordan.

And even though she thought that she was strong enough to overcome that insecure, frightened part of her, she wasn't.

At first, she was hesitant to get to know Simon, to date Simon because of Jordan. There was a small part of her that sometimes expected Simon to yell at her, to demean her dreams as Jordan did. She'd expect him to slam his hands on the table, to raise his voice, causing her to jump back when they fought or when he was pissed. She'd expect him to put her through the same emotional shit that Jordan did.

Simon proved himself to be nothing like that. He was kind, sweet, gentle. He is funny and talented and so, _so_ good to her. He's loyal to his friends and those he cares about. He's the type of guy that most parents want their daughters to bring home, and Maia fell for him. But she was holding back. That tiny part of her was still screaming at her to be careful.

Maybe it was something mental. Maia thought that by getting away from the Shadow World for some time, she could give herself the time and space she needs to clear her head, reflect and heal and get her relationship with Simon back on track.

God, she was wrong.

She’s admitted to herself that she’s not ready. She’s not over what Jordan did. And seeing him face to face made her realize that. Sure, she went off on Jordan and it was amazing, and she felt the satisfaction for mere moments until the panic hit her and the transformation started happening.

And she didn’t want anything like that happening with Simon. She could never fully love Simon because of Jordan. That’s the truth. And that's when she figured out that continuing her relationship with Simon would just be fooling them both, and she’d be pushing herself to accept something that she’s not completely ready for. She knows that she needs to give herself more time.

Which is why as soon as she exits the bus, she texts Simon.

**TO: SIMON [@11:00 PM]**

_I'm back. Sorry 4 the late message. Meet @ Hunter’s tmr for a talk?_

It was time to lay all her cards on the table, and face the music.

****

Simon’s phone vibrates in his pocket.

It’s a text from Maia.

She wants to talk. Tomorrow, at the Hunter’s Moon.

He replies with a simple _okay_.

Tomorrow would either make or break their relationship.

****

“Here, step in carefully,” Isabelle gently helps Clary into the shower.

Clary trembles in her arms. Isabelle turns on the tap and grasps Clary's red hair in her hands, helping her soak it under the hot, running water.

Then, she takes shampoo and spreads it through her hair, carefully washing out all the grease, grime and ash, thoroughly conditioning the locks after.

She waits in the after she finishes Clary’s hair, giving Clary the privacy to wash off the rest of her body. As Clary dries off her body and wraps her hair, Isabelle looks through Clary’s drawers for some of her more loose, comfortable clothing.

“Thank you, Izzy,” Clary sighs.

“You need to rest, Clary,” Isabelle tells her, helping her back to bed.

“W-wait,” Clary stutters, “Where's Jace?”

“He wouldn’t leave your side. He was practically starving himself, so I sent him to his room to take a shower and get some food,” Isabelle informs her, “Do you want me to go get him?”

“Can you stay with me instead?” Clary asks, “He needs to take care of himself, too.”

“Of course,” Isabelle smiles, “I don’t mind.”

Clary tries to remember what happened.

_Jia Penhallow telling her to bring back Valentine._

_The Owl took a rib and abducted her from Alicante._

_She cut her skin and left a trail of blood for her friends to find her._

_Simon found her in Lilith’s building._

_And then……. A white-hot pain in her head..._

_And then…… Nothing._

“Izzy,” Clary begins, trying to keep her voice steady, “What happened that night?”

Isabelle looks at her, a flash of panic passing through her brown eyes before she conceals it.

“You don’t remember?” She asks.

“I think I hit my head,” Clary says, lowly, shaking her head, “I-I don’t know--”

“There was an explosion in the building,” Isabelle tells her, “It took Lilith back to Edom. You went missing, and Simon thought he’d killed you.”

“The Mark of Cain on his forehead, is it gone?” Clary asks, concerned for her best friend. She knows that Mark is the bane of his existence.

“No,” Isabelle answers, “His roommate has connections with the Praetor Lupus, so he’s gone back to their headquarters to do some research. And bring in some more help.”

“Oh,” Clary says, “Is that all?”

Isabelle hesitates. Keeping Jonathan a secret may not be the best idea, Isabelle admits to herself.

“Clary, Jonathan wasn’t in the sarcophagus after the building exploded,” Isabelle drops her voice to a whisper.

“What?” Clary gasps, pressing her fingers against her temple, “Where is he, then? We need to end this, we need to take him--”

Isabelle shushes her, gently.

“We’re working on it,” she says, “Clary, it’s obvious that you’re still hurting, and you’re gonna make things worse by freaking out. Rest, and I’ll get some food for when you wake up. We’ll come up with a plan once we have all hands on deck, alright?”

Clary nods because she knows Isabelle is right. Worrying right now isn’t going to do anyone any good.

Isabelle leaves the infirmary, and Clary sinks into an uneasy sleep.

****

“I need to get back to the Institute,” Alec says, looking at Magnus.

“You're hurt, and it might not be wise for you to put yourself out there yet,” Magnus reminds Alec, “You could get hurt again.”

“Magnus,” Alec tries again, “There are things that I need to do at the Institute. It's okay—”

“Why can't you seem to understand,” Magnus barely raises his voice, but he drops all eye contact, and the shaky sharpness of his words shut Alec up, “that I need you to live, Alexander?”

Of course, Alec understands. He knows that Magnus is afraid of losing him, vice versa. He knows that their relationship is in a delicate place. But they have bigger problems on their plate.

They both know this. As a Shadowhunter, Alec was trained to put his head before his heart. He was taught that decisions shouldn't be influenced by emotions.

But looking at Magnus right now, seeing the worry in his eyes, knowing that he's lived through centuries and lost most of his loved ones, Alec can tell that Magnus isn’t concerned about himself, or about Lorenzo Rey, or about Jonathan Morgenstern, but the center of his concern and attention is Alec. And this just proves that they’re both willing to go against their own principles, their morals to ensure that the other does not get hurt.

Alec leans forward and presses his lips against Magnus', in a slow, tender kiss. He cards his palm through Magnus’ soft, black hair.

“I'll be careful,” Alec whispers, cradling Magnus’ face in his hand, “I promise. But, we have the Jonathan situation to deal with. Your powers are gone, and so is your immortality, so we have to deal with that, too.”

“Alexander, I can handle myself,” Magnus smiles, softly against his lips.

“I know. But it's still my fault though,” Alec pulls away slowly, “You shouldn’t have had to give up the things that mean the most to you to save my _parabatai._ I can never repay you for that. So, let me help you for once. Okay?”

Magnus buries his face in the crook of Alec's shoulder and gives a small, imperceptible nod.

****

When Isabelle sees Simon in the Sanctuary, she immediately knows something's up.

So, she walks over to him, a small smile on her lips.

“Hey, Simon,” she greets, “What can I do for you?”

His mouth is set in a serious line, and it lacks the usual small, Simon Lewis trademark smile.

Isabelle supposes that she shouldn't have expected to see him smiling; after all, he’s recently lost his mother; but it's unsettling, all the same.

“Hey Izzy,” he greets, “How-How's Clary doing? Jace said he brought her in?”

“He did. She’s asleep right now,” Isabelle tells him, “She's fine, except for some smaller cuts and bruises, and a headache, but she should heal in no time with a few more _iratzes_.”

“Oh, okay,” his eyes dart around the room, “I'll come back later, then. I didn't come by immediately after Jace found her because I know she needed the rest.”

“It’s okay. She's tough. I’ll tell her you stopped by, though,” Isabelle smiles, but Simon still looks troubled and unfocused.

 Hey, Simon,” Isabelle snaps gently to get him to focus his attention, “Are you sure everything's alright?”

“N-no,” his lips quiver and he visibly bites down to keep them steady, “I know that this is not our biggest problem at hand, but um. Maia, she, uh, she broke up with me.”

“Oh, no,” Isabelle's heart drops, “I know this is probably a stupid question, but are you alright?”

She knows Maia left town for a couple of weeks, but she's never expected this to happen.

“I'm doing as good as I possibly can,” Simon rubs the back of his neck, “She went through some stuff with her ex, and she’s not really over it. She says that she still needs some time, you know?”

“I do,” Isabelle says, sympathetically, “I hope she's okay, though.”

She couldn’t even begin to imagine how badly Simon was suffering right now.

“I suppose she will be,” Simon sniffs, “With time. I told her about the whole Jonathan thing, and she said that whenever we need extra help to call her. So that should, you know, take her mind off things.”

“Oh, Simon,” Isabelle doesn't know what else to do except tip-toe to Simon's height and wrap her arms easily around him, which is the best type of comfort she can offer.

It gives her a pleasant feeling when Simon relaxes into her embrace.

****

_It's the same dream._

_Clarissa._

_Clarissa, get up._

_Hands reach out, extending into the dark oblivion._

_She's running through the maze again._

_Clarissa, find me._

_The dangerous voice._

_She wants to listen._

_She wants to find the voice once more._

_Clarissa._

_Find me._

_The portal rune glows brightly in her line of dark vision. She steps toward it. Hands grab her and drag her, closer, **closer**._

_I'm waiting for you._

She fights back and struggles. When her eyes fly open for the second time that day, she's writhing and screaming in Jace's strong embrace. His lips form words but she doesn't hear. His grasp is firm. She focuses on him, on his face, not the disorientation in her mind and body.

She knows him. She trusts him.

And then she realizes she's safe again.


	4. The World Is Spinning Like A Weather Vane, Fragile And Composed

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> They find out what's wrong with Clary, and nobody saw it coming.

-Five Days later-

Alec sits easily behind the desk in his office, Clary opposite him, in one of the leather armchairs. She still looks like a mess. Her curly hair is entangled all over her head and there are dark, heavy bags under her eyes. Her pale skin is translucent, and even though she holds herself up ramrod straight, Alec can't help but think that she'll pass out at any given time.

“Is it the same nightmare all the time?” he asks, looking at her with concern.

“Yes,” she replies, “Jace is usually with me every time, but he's going through enough as it is already. I can't let him be burdened with this too, Alec,” she continues, “There was one night where I almost walked out of my room with a stele in my hand. Last night, I dreamt that the walls in my room were covered in portal runes. Jace and I have been talking about it since he’s the one who always wakes me up. We both agree that it’s not... It’s not normal.”

“Have you tried going to a warlock for a sleeping elixir? I know you're having problems with the dreams, but do you think that it would help?” Alec asks.

“I'll talk to Magnus and see what he recommends,” Clary considers, “But if it doesn't work…” she licks her lips as the words catch in her throat, “I'll go to the Silent City. Maybe the Silent Brothers can help me.”

“If you’re sure,” Alec looks at her, eyebrow raised.

Clary nods before leaving his office, looking like what Alec pictures would be Joan of Arc about to go into battle.

***

Simon closes his eyes and tips his head back, indulging in the sunlight shining down on him as he waits on the park bench for Clary. Funnily enough, as soon as he thinks about her, the red-head appears in front of him.

“Simon,” she smiles as he gets up.

She wraps her arms around his neck in a tight hug and he does the same around her waist.

“I’m sorry about Maia,” she tells him. She’s only heard the news a few days after she woke up and she can’t imagine how he feels.

He tells her about how Isabelle was there for him, though, and she’s so grateful for the other girl. Lately, it seems as though they’ve both spending a lot of time with each other, Simon and Isabelle. Not only in terms of having each other’s backs but also being really supportive and emotionally there for each other. Although it’s not her business, she can’t help but wonder if something’s happening between them. She really does hopes so. After they get closure from their previous relationships she hopes that something will happen; they would be wonderful for each other.

“Thanks,” Simon replies, sitting down again. It’s then that he really looks at Clary and sees how terrible she looks. “Are you okay, Fray?” Simon asks with concern.

Clary sits next to Simon and starts talking.

***

Jace swings the sword in his hand upward against the imaginary foe.

His thoughts go back to Clary, back to last night, when she’d awoken in a cold sweat, crying out in pain. Jace remembers wrapping his arms around her, kissing her head gently, telling her _it’s okay_ , over and over until she’d calmed down.

And he remembers the discussion they’d had right after.

_“Jace, you can’t hold this over you. You can’t keep feeling guilty about what happened. You had no control over it,” Clary whispers, shivering lightly, “You were under **Lilith’s** control.”_

_“You don’t understand,” he says, his voice shaking, “When Shadowhunters are born, there are protection spells that are placed on them by the Silent Brothers to prevent things like that from happening. When you made the wish, and I came back, I didn’t have any protection at all. That’s what made me vulnerable. And that’s what caused us to be in this mess, Clary. That’s what gave Lilith control over me in the first place. We can blame her all we want, but she saw an opportunity, and she took it.”_

_Clary’s own voice shakes as she replies, “Bringing you back may have been the wrong decision, but I thought it was the right call. It felt like the right decision, and I can’t take back what happened. Even if I could, I wouldn’t, if it means that I get to have you here, like this. Alive and well.”_

_“Love makes us selfish, doesn’t it?” Jace mutters quietly, “It was both our faults. We should have said something, and I should have never asked you to keep it secret, and you shouldn’t have used the wish.”_

_There is some silence as they’re both lost in their own thoughts._

_He buries his head in the crook between her neck and shoulder, sighing._

_“There was some evil, sick, twisted part of me that enjoyed what she commanded me to do,” Jace’s voice cracks unevenly as he eventually admits the ugly truth, hating to bring the topic back to himself, but needing to get it out, “And I hate it, so much.”_

_And he expects Clary to be disgusted, to be revolted, to tell him to take his hands off her, to storm out of his room, to be overall angry._

_But she’s not._

_Instead, she tightens her grip around Jace, carding her fingers softly through his hair._

_“It’s okay,” is all she says._

_“What?” Jace croaks._

_“It’s okay,” Clary repeats, “And it’s not okay to feel guilty about the part of you that liked it. It does not make you a bad person. Everybody has a dark part of themselves that they keep hidden away. It’s part of who you are. It’s what you decide to do with that darkness that defines the kind of person you are.”_

_“How can you be so sure?” He asks, unsure himself._

_“Well, if I’m being honest,” Clary started, biting her lip carefully, “I enjoyed killing Valentine. And I was worried that that would make me evil, like him. Luke helped me through it. He told me that the Morgenstern and Fairchild blood in me, the good and the evil parts, were what made me who I am. And I should embrace it, not be afraid of it.”_

“Hey,” Alec says interrupting Jace’s thoughts as he eyes him from the entryway of the training room.

“Alec?” Jace asks, squinting, “What are you doing here? Shouldn’t you be resting?”

“Believe me, I’ve had enough rest to last me a lifetime,” Alec laughs, softly. “What are you doing training this early?”

“Well, like you said, I’ve had enough rest to last a lifetime, too,” Jace says, “I can’t sit down.”

Alec eases down to the ground, sitting on the steps leading into the Institute's training room. Jace notices the slight wince on Alec’s face as he comes to sit next to his best friend, but says nothing, knowing that Alec would berate him for ‘babying' him.

“Are you okay, Jace?” Alec asks, making eye contact.

Jace squirms under Alec’s unrelenting gaze.

“I'm, I'm getting there,” he answers, after a short pause. “Everyone keeps telling me that it's not my fault and I shouldn't blame myself, including Clary.”

“She’s right,” Alec says simply.

Jace can't help the burst of pride for Clary that blooms in his chest when Alec says this There's something about the two most important people in his life finally getting along, and he really can't help the small burst of happiness at that, either.

“We were so worried about you, you know,” Alec mumbles quietly.

“I know,” Jace mumbles in response, “Three go in, three come out.”

There's more Jace wants to say, though. “When she took over, I thought I was never going to see you guys again. All I could do was stand back and watch her make me say all of those nasty things. I heard you telling Magnus that you're nothing without me and-and I could feel all of your emotions through our bond.”

“Jace...” Alec raises a finger, most likely about to tell him to leave it in the past, but Jace cuts him off.

“No, listen to me, Alec,” Jace says, sternly. “I don’t ever want you to feel like that again. I want you to know something. I may be considered ‘the best Shadowhunter of our generation’, but you're not only my better half, but you're also the better man, Alec Lightwood. And after everything has been said and done, you're judged on the kind of person you are, not whether you’re the better Shadowhunter or not. If I thought that I was fine by myself, I would have never asked to be _parabatai._ When I did, I knew I was trusting myself with a person who I thought was better than me - you. Got it?”

Alec gives him an imperceptible nod while a smile twitches at the corner of his lips. That's how Jace knows he's said the right thing.

“How are we going to find Jonathan, Jace?” Alec sighs after another bout of silence, rubbing his hand down his face, closing his hazel eyes, “Magnus wants me to take it easy, but we have an evil psychopath on the loose. We have the man that tried to _kill_ Max on the loose. Magnus doesn’t have his magic and no matter how much he pretends that he doesn’t care, or that it doesn’t bother him, I can tell that it does. There are so, so many problems right now to deal with and what’s eating at me is that I can’t fix any of it.”

Jace doesn’t know how to reassure him, how to provide him with the advice that he needs.

“Alec, you are one of the best, most brilliant leaders that this Institute has ever seen,” is what he chooses to say instead. “If there’s anyone who can find a way to fix this, it’s you.”

“I hope so,” his brother frowns, looking at the yellow and black tiles of the training room as if they were a chessboard, and he was anticipating Jonathan’s next move.

***

“How can I help you, biscuit?” Magnus asks, smiling wearily at Clary and Simon when they show up at his apartment later that afternoon.

“I can’t sleep,” Clary explains, while Magnus leads them into the living room, motioning for them to sit, “I’ve been having these… well, dreams are a light word for them. More like nightmares.”

“Oh?” Magnus’ eyebrows raise against his forehead and Clary takes this as a cue to elaborate on her late night sleepwalking and her dreams of rooms full of portal runes. When she’s finished, Magnus has a pretty strong idea of what’s happening to Clary. He just doesn’t know how to tell her that a sleeping potion would only make things worse for her. And if his theory is right, he doesn’t know how to tell her what’s going on, either.

“Clary, we established that you have a connection to the angels.” Magnus looks at her, intensely. “And we established that some of your dreams, like the one with Lake Lyn, are not just dreams, but visions.”

“Yeah,” Clary agrees, following along with confused look, wondering exactly where Magnus is going with this.

“And Jonathan was no longer in the sarcophagus. We’ve established that, like Lilith, Jonathan may be able to use magic,” Magnus continues.

“Right, right,” Simon adds. “Because of the whole half-Demon thing. And no one has found him in the New York area.”

“So I think that… Jonathan is trying to contact Clary from wherever he is. Which may explain why you’ve been dreaming about Portal runes,” Magnus says. The room is silent for a moment as if a bomb has gone off.

“But, how is he able to establish a mental link to talk to me?” Clary asks in a frightened voice, but Magnus can’t say that he blames her. It would be scary to know that someone like Jonathan Morgenstern could have control over someone, especially in their sleep.

“I..I don't know,” Magnus is at a loss this time. “Maybe via either a rune with _parabatai_ like properties, or something like an invisible string bonding the two minds together, or simply a mind spell.”

“But I _don't know_ what happened with Lilith,” Clary says, frustration coloring her tone. Her mind still draws to a blank, when she thinks of those last few hours with the Queen of Edom, and it’s honestly starting to bother her more than she cares to admit, even though Isabelle has filled her in. She can’t help feeling as though she’s missing something important.

She even talked to Simon, but all he told her was what he remembered: she drew a sunlight rune to distract Lilith while he destroyed the sarcophagus, but things went south and the building exploded.

But this. Never in her wildest dreams would she ever imagine that this was the case. She felt as though her world was a weather vane, fragile and composed. And this news, it throws her whole world upside down. It is chaotic and upsets _everything._

“I know,” Magnus tells her, “ I'm going to call Catarina, as well as Brother Zachariah over tonight. Maybe they can help us figure out the link. If we still can’t figure it out, Brother Zachariah would take you to the City of Bones straight away. The Silent Brothers should have experience with this type of old magic. They’ll be able to help you.”

Magnus waits for Clary's opinions.

“Okay,” Clary agrees, “Let’s get everyone over here to explain what we think is happening. We can make a plan from there.”

****

It’s ominous in Magnus’ apothecary. Clary doesn’t know how Magnus manages to pull these things off, but she's grateful that he's helping her. There’s Catarina, standing on one corner of the room, and Brother Zachariah, standing at the other corner.

Jace is standing protectively next to her. Alec is at his boyfriend’s side, a steady, calming presence in the room. The other steady presence in the room is Simon, who stands at the other side of Clary.

“Are you ready, Clary?” Magnus asks, softly.

She nods hesitantly and steps into the pentagram that she and Catarina have drawn on the floor. Magnus hands her the potion that would help them identify what was the cause of the link and Clary downs it as fast as she can, making a face at the aftertaste.

Catarina starts chanting in an ancient language and Clary crumbles to the ground, grasping her collarbone, screaming in pain.

Clary’s head pounds from the inside and the voice in her head screams out with a vengeance.  There are no words that can describe the amount of pain she was going through. She feels something flowing hot, wetly down her nose.

“Get her out!” Jace tries to rush forward and pull Clary out, but Magnus holds him back.

“Wait,” he says, focused on Clary writhing in the middle of the pentagram,“Catarina needs to finish first.”

It takes Catarina a few seconds, but to everyone else in the room, it feels like forever before Clary is forced out of the pentagram, tears, and blood streaking down her pale face.

“Clarissa,” Catarina says, slightly pulling the soft cotton of her t-shirt aside in favor of checking what Clary was grasping at so tightly earlier.

A rune stands out in a horrible, ugly red color, as if someone had taken their bare nail and dug it into her skin. The misshapen, harsh, distorted lines are cruel and the mark itself reeks of evil.

It surprises everyone when Brother Zachariah speaks up.

 _I need to escort her to the Silent City immediately_ , he says, _The Silent Brothers will need to study this rune and figure out a way to remove it safely._

“Wait, what?” Jace demands. “How long will that take?”

 _You should go back to the Institute and gather some clothing and such, for we leave tonight,_ the Brother answers. _As for how long it will take, I’m afraid that I do not have an answer for that._

“J-Jace,” Clary stammers, as Magnus helps to sit down on the sofa, and Alec draws his stele to activate her healing rune, “It’s fine. I-I’ll be fine. I promise.”

 


	5. I Call It Magic, When I'm With You.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The finale.

“Magnus,” Alec mumbles, following Magnus out onto the balcony after Clary, Brother Zachariah, Isabelle, Jace and Simon leave to go to the Silent City. “I know that not having any of your magic is hurting you. And I know you. So please, don’t hide how you feel. Not from me.”

Alec had seen the expression on his face when Clary started screaming inside the pentagram, and he’d seen the expression on Magnus’ face as Clary hissed in pain when the tip of Alec’s stele touched the rune on her skin.

Magnus sighs, “I know I shouldn't, but it's hard... to talk about. I feel like I have to be strong for everyone, you know? So much people rely on me, I can afford to fake that I’m okay for a while.”

“Sometimes,” Alec says in a serious voice, “We can all use a hand.”

“I’ve just never asked for help before. I’ve never had any and I never wanted any,” Magnus replies, softly, “I don’t know how to.”

“You don’t have to ask for it,” Alec places his hand on Magnus’, “It can be as simple as talking about things.”

Magnus smiles wryly as he realizes that Alec has trapped him.

“I’m defenseless without my magic, yes,” Magnus admits, “And Lorenzo will eventually look for me, plus I have a lot of enemies. I won’t be prepared to take any of it on because I’m powerless. I feel more tired and less energetic lately, and it’s hard to watch Cat and the others do their magic because it stings to know that I could have helped once, but I can’t anymore. Nor can I help you and your friends, those I care about. I can’t protect _you_. And if I can’t do any of that, then what good am I? I feel like a sitting duck, just waiting to be poached.”

They observe the New York skyline as Alec quietly processes what Magnus has just told him.

“You’re not useless, Magnus. You managed to figure out what was wrong with Clary before the rest of us did. And you helped Catarina perform the spell properly. You’re always helping us, whether you realize it or not,” Alec comforts the older man, “I can teach you combat and how to defend yourself when I’m free, as long you come to the Institute. Mom doesn’t have her runes anymore, so you two have some more things in common now.”

Alec’s last comment about his mother was teasing but Magnus knows his offer to train him, as well as his words of reassurance were very, very real. Although Alec is a man of few words, he always tells the truth and he means every single word he says.

“I’ll think about it, once you’re healed up properly,” Magnus considers, “Besides, I can always call it magic when I’m with you. ‘Cause it is.”

A loud, authentic laugh leaves Magnus as Alec starts to stutter and a lovely shade of rose bloom on his cheeks.

Alec’s embarrassed, but the embarrassment is worth it if he gets to hear his lover laugh like this.

***

“Are you okay?” Clary asks softly.

“I’m fine. I should be the one asking you that, since you’re the priority right now,” Jace replies, softly carding his fingers into hers.

“I’m fine,” she smiles, clutching the duffel bag full of clothes closer to her body.

“Yes, you are,” Jace lightly teases, “But really, though. How are you doing?”

“It’s overwhelming,” Clary admits, “But I just want to go and get this over with so that maybe things can just go back to being normal. I mean, as normal as things could have gotten in the Institute.”

Clary and Jace exchange small glances. The love that they hold for each other is made shines within their eye contact. They linger behind the group and the Silent Brother walks ahead of them all.

Usually, large groups aren’t allowed to go to the Silent City, but Clary’s friends wanted to be there for her while they could, since they didn’t know when she would be coming back. And since Brother Zachariah knew what that felt like, leave the people that you love behind, he’d allowed them to come along under the condition that they had to say their goodbyes outside the gate.

The cemetery is cold and dark, wind howling with the screams of the tortured, grieving spirits.

 _Here is where you shall say farewell to your friends_ , Brother Zachariah says,  _for they are not permitted on the other side._

“Clary,” Luke grasps her arm delicately, before she can move, “Are you sure about this?”

“Of course I am,” Clary says, her tone ringing with finality, “I'm not about to let that monster stay inside my head.”

“Luke,” Maryse places her hand on Luke's shoulder, “This is all up to Clary. Trust her to decide whether or not she's doing the right thing for herself.”

“You're right,” Luke mumbles, allowing her to pull his hand away from Clary.

“You've got this, kiddo,” Luke smiles confidently at her, embracing her.

“Take care, Clary,” Maryse says, smiling from her place, next to Luke, resting her hand on Clary’s shoulder.

Simon embraces her next, “Never forget, I'm always here for you, Fray.”

Isabelle hugs her fiercely, after Simon.

“Don't let any of them get to you,” she tells her pseudo-sister, kissing her cheek.

Jace approaches her after. The others have occupied themselves to give them some privacy. Jace presses his lips softly against hers, in a chaste but passionate kiss. She smiles into the kiss, treasuring it. It's soft and sweet and everything she didn't know she needed.

“It sucks that we're separating again,” Jace mumbles, “I dunno when is the next time I'll be able to see you, so always remember that I love you, Clary. And kick his ass.”

He embraces her tightly for a few moments, taking in the feeling of the softness of her skin, the way she fits under his chin, how she's so right for him as their bodies melt together, almost like puzzle pieces. How gently her lips slot against his, and how she grabs him by the front of his leather jacket to get him closer, to get him to her height. The red that's dusting across her cheeks and nose in the cold. How her pale hands grab his.

And those were the physical things. His other favorite parts of Clary are her personality; her driven determination, her loyalty to those she truly loves and cares about. Her fierce stubbornness and street smarts that have saved his ass on multiple occasions. Her fiery will to stick to her strict morals to do what's right. The way she smiles softly, but brightly when she gets flustered.

Brother Zachariah holds the gate open, then he gestures for Clary to go in.

 _Clarissa_ , Brother Zachariah says, and Jace hates that he has to let go so soon after getting her back, _It is time, my dear._

“Of course,” she says as she disentangles herself from Jace's grasp.

Her friends wait until she disappears into the cave. Brother Zachariah uses a witchlight to guide her through the dark underground path

Clary and Brother Zachariah stop when the pathway leads them down the hall to the giant statue of the Angel Raziel holding the two of the Mortal Instruments.

She’s in awe of the striking details and features of the marbled Angel. Whoever had made it had a true artistic eye. Each detail was sculpted with care and precision, and the artist in Clary could appreciate that. She knows good art when she sees it.

The hall splits into several smaller pathways, each leading to different areas in the Silent City. Clary realizes that she's only been down one of these pathways before when she was trying to regain her stolen memories to find her mother. Clary smiles wryly. So much has changed in so little time.

 _We will go into the Living Chambers, into the heart of the Silent City,_ Brother Zachariah informs her, _I will assign you to a chamber which shall be your quarters for the duration of your stay here._

She nods because she's afraid to disrupt the silent peacefulness of the City.

The only light source in the hallway are the lit candles and the witchlights in their hands. They pass several rooms until he stops. 

 _Here_ , he says.

Clary follows him into the room, and he lights the candles inside it. He deactivates the witchlight after the room is brightened, and Clary does the same. 

 _I will leave you get settled_ , he continues, _and I will be back tomorrow with Brother Enoch to begin evaluating your Mark._

“Thank you,” Clary smiles.

The Silent Brother bows his head in acknowledgement and leaves. Clary settles the duffel bag onto the floor. That's when she sees something poking through the fabric.

Curious, she sits on the small cot and opens the bag, only to something wrapped together in two sheets of paper on top of her clothes. When she opens the small package, a stele rolls out, as well as an extra witchlight.

There is uneven, messy, boyish writing on the paper. Clary holds it closer to her, into the light.

_Please be safe._

_Jace._

That's all that's written on it. Smiling, Clary lays down on the cot, gripping the stele tightly in her hands, cherishing the light comfort it gives, all the while hoping that it would keep the voice away. She doesn't know when she falls asleep. 

_Clarissa._

_Clarissa._

_Find me._

Heat blooms at the base of her neck, working its way through her head. She whimpers, struggling to resist the voice. It gets louder and louder till she's surrounded by it.

_Find me, Clarrisa._

Her eyes tighten together in her sleep. She's fighting a losing battle. She wants to scream, she wants to fight it, but she can't hold out against it.

_You know they will torture you, they will experiment on you, they will force you to do things because they're afraid of you. You're Valentine's daughter, and regardless of what they say, they fear you._

_Find me, sister._

_I will protect you._

The voice is a smooth, safe, alluring command.

Clary's eyes fly open.

The stele burns in her hand as the lines for the portal rune blaze brightly against the wall in front of her as she draws.

Not thinking twice, she steps through the portal when it opens. 

****

Behind her, alarms in the Silent City blaze to life, rousing everybody, Silent Brother and prisoner alike.

Brother Zachariah’s robes fly around him as he and Brother Enoch hurry to Clary's chamber.

The girl is not there.

Brother Zachariah presses his fingers together.

 _Where is the girl?_ Brother Enoch asks.

 _I do not know_ , Brother Zachariah says, _The rune on her neck, it is not an Angelic rune. I do not know the effects of it._

 _We must contact her Institute_ , Brother Enoch tells him, _And we must contact The Clave. There is darkness in the air, a worse evil than Valentine. I sense it._

****

On the other side of the portal, in his apartment, Jonathan Christopher Morgenstern holds out his hand.

The red head reaches out and takes it, stepping away from the portal.

****

Three thousand, six hundred and twenty five miles across the world, in New York City, Jace Herondale cannot sleep. He’s haunted by the feeling that something terrible is going to happen, and there is nothing he will be able to do about it.

Simon Lewis is worried about his best friend, he’s worried about what level of threat Jonathan Morgenstern possesses. He’s worried about Maia, and how she’s doing, even though they’re not a couple anymore. Jordan has gone back to the Praetor Lupus to try to get some information on the Mark of Cain, so thankfully Maia hasn’t seen him yet.

Maryse worries for Luke, who’s lost the closest thing he has to a daughter. For Clary, for her children who would do anything for each other, to protect and save each other.

Luke worries for Clary, who is brave and bold, just like Jocelyn. The pang in his chest doesn’t quite sting as bad as it used to, like the old days. He knows that Clary can take care of herself. She has Jace and Simon, too. But he begs the Angel to keep her safe.

Isabelle worries about her mother, even though she knows she has Luke (even if they aren’t aware of how they feel about each other. _Yet_.) She worries about Jace, who’s just said goodbye to the love of his life. She worries about her brother and his boyfriend, who’re struggling to get some sense of normality back into their lives. And she worries about Simon, who’s lost his girlfriend, his best friend, and his mother.

Alec worries about Clary too, as well as several other Institute related things. The threat of Jonathan looms over his head, like an executioner slowly approaching his victim. But above all, he worries about Magnus, and how he’s going to adjust to being without his magic.

And Magnus worries about him, too. He worries about Alec’s healing, he worries about Lorenzo Rey. He worries about Madzie, as he knows that Catarina is going out of her way to help them, as well as keep her daily E.R. job.

The events that happened after the battle with Lilith are starting to take its toll, and it would seem as though sleep, has eluded them all.

They don’t know that tomorrow is when they will get the news that will change the course of Shadowhunter history forever.

****

Jonathan Morgenstern grins, a wicked, sinister thing. His eyes, his distinctive features, are pitch black, dangerous and deadly. But Clary is not afraid. This is her brother. She trusts him. She knows that whatever he does is out of love for her.

“Welcome to Paris, Clarissa,” he says, and his voice is as sweet and smooth as melted chocolate as he leads her to the balcony, so that she can see the beauty of the lighted silhouette of the Eiffel tower in front of them, “It's going to be a pleasure getting to know you, sister.”

 

\--END--

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So thank you guys so much for reading this, I hope y'all enjoyed it <3! Big thanks to the Big Bang organizers for doing this, it was so much fun. I'm glad my first bang was such a good experience. 
> 
> *hurries off to read the others' fics*


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